Tendrils of Black
by ourheartsofsteel
Summary: Poppy has been targeted her whole life. The reason lies in her name. But it just so happens that someone else knows what this feels like. The Trio need help to fight the forces that work against them — and this unexpected outsider might just be the person to help them. Takes place halfway through the of Prisoner of Azkaban and into the Goblet of Fire.
1. Chapter 1

Harry was nervous. He had recently failed at his first patronus lesson with Lupin. Another afternoon of trying to produce the spell would make him mental.

That's when Lupin came in, a blur of apologies and soft eyes, saying he had to meet with the headmaster. Harry nodded, confused, as he was ushered out of the classroom, watching Lupin hurry off towards Dumbledore's office. In the distance, he saw a flash of greasy black hair, and his attention peaked.

As much as Harry tried to resist, his curiosity got the best of him. He grabbed Ron, and with little explanation other than "Snape", they rushed off, throwing the invisibility cloak over them.

They arrived at Dumbledore's office just in time to see Lupin and Snape enter, the two slipping through just in time to join them. Harry and Ron crowded under the cloak in a corner as the three men stood awkwardly.

Lupin spoke first. "I know this isn't a normal request."

Snape turned to him pointedly. "That is an understatement. To bring a student halfway through the year? Why would we possibly warrant that? Especially one like this. The aggression issues alone—"

"Yes, she has anger issues. Could you blame her? Considering her parentage?" Lupin cut him off, turning to Dumbledore.

"That's another issue. The mere fact of who she is endangers every other student in the school! He's already gone after Potter."

Harry and Ron shared a glance, confusion etched in their faces.

Remus sighed heavily, glaring in Snape's direction. "He would never hurt her. She's the safest child here when it comes to him. That's not the issue."

"Then what, praytell—" Snape started, but Dumbledore silenced him.

"Enough. Remus, explain."

"She's a bright student at Durmstrang. A week before winter break, someone broke into her dorm. They were wearing masks." Snape straightened his back, and Lupin gave him a look that Harry couldn't pinpoint.

"She was on the Quidditch pitch at the time. That's the only thing that saved her." Remus continued, with a grim look on his face.

"Why would they attack her when her father was a known sympathizer? What motivation would they have?" Snape asked, suspicion clear in his voice.

Remus eyed Snape warily. There was a sadness in his eyes that Harry recognized from earlier in the year when he mentioned Harry's parents.

"I don't know," Remus said. "But she isn't safe there anymore. With the added protection, Hogwarts is the only place she has left."

Dumbledore nodded. Snape turned to him with exasperation.

"Headmaster, you can't possibly agree to this. Despite the security risks, a transfer is risky. Her records show she doesn't have nearly high enough scores for herbology or potions. And there's a matter of sorting."

Remus jumped in. "Pomona said she would bring her up to speed. If you'd do the same—"

"Absolutely not. I will not spend unnecessary time with a student who clearly does not have the capabilities."

"We could find a tutor then if you are so inclined to punish a child for her father's choices." Remus turned to Dumbledore. "She has nowhere else to go, Albus."

"Headmaster, if you'd listen—" Snape started.

Dumbledore held out his hand and they both fell silent. "Severus, leave us."

Snape glanced between the two men, his face pointed in dissent. Then, in a sweep of his black cloak, he was gone.

Dumbledore wandered to Fawkes' cage, stroking her feathers.

"Not many children have someone so valiantly stand up for them."

He turned to Remus with a gentle smile. "And, I dare say, that Poppy certainly needs it."

Remus stood at the desk, running his palms down his pant leg anxiously. Dumbledore came to stand next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I know what the girl means to you, Remus. I will allow her to transfer."

Remus smiled. "Thank you, Albus. You won't regret this."

Dumbledore nodded. "I would like to speak with her first, however. And I believe a private sorting is in order."

Ron shot a surprised look at Harry.

"Of course. She's staying at the Three Broomsticks."

Dumbledore chuckled. "It seems that you had already known my answer, then."

Remus smirked. "I was hopeful."

* * *

After following Remus out of the office, Harry and Ron hurried towards the Gryffindor common room, pulling off the cloak.

Ron stopped suddenly, pulling Harry along with him. "Who were they talking about? A new student from Durmstrang? And one who had someone trying to kill them?"

Harry sighed, glancing around the corridor. "I think Snape was talking about Sirius Black. He said that someone had already tried going after me. Other than Voldemort, I can't remember anyone wanting me dead."

Ron nodded, glancing off towards the windows. "But who would he never hurt? And why?"

Harry shrugged. "We'll have to find out."


	2. Chapter 2

Hey friends, sorry for the horizontal lines, but my nice little pagebreaks weren't working. Enjoy the long chapter!

* * *

Ravenclaw played Slytherin a week after the start of term. Slytherin won, though narrowly. According to Wood, this wasn't good for Gryffindor, who would take second place if they beat Ravenclaw too. He also mentioned that Flint was looking at a new person to add to the team.

Wood seemed shocked by this, leaning in close as he told Harry. It _was_ rather late to introduce a new arrival. Harry just hoped it wasn't another Malfoy.

Between figuring that out, Lupin's Anti-Dementor classes, and the increased number of Quidditch practices, Harry had just one night a week to do all of his homework. Even so, he wasn't showing the strain nearly as much as Hermione, whose immense workload finally seemed to be getting to her. Every night, without fail, Hermione was to be seen in a corner of the common room, several tables spread with books, Arithmancy charts, Rune dictionaries, diagrams of Muggles lifting heavy objects, and file upon file of extensive notes; she barely spoke to anybody, and snapped when she was interrupted.

Harry wanted to tell Hermione about the meeting with Lupin and Dumbledore, but between her mood and the sting of the Firebolt being taken away, he decided to keep his mouth shut.

"How's she doing it?" Ron muttered to Harry one evening, as Harry sat finishing a nasty essay on Undetectable Poisons for Snape. Harry looked up, Hermione was barely visible behind her tottering pile of books.

"Doing what?"

"Getting to all her classes!" Ron said. "I heard her talking to Professor Vector, that Arithmancy witch, this morning. They were going on about yesterday's lesson, but Hermione cant've been there because she was with us in Care of Magical Creatures! And Ernie McMillan told me she's never missed a Muggle Studies class, but half of them are at the same time as Divination, and she's never missed one of them either!"

Harry didn't have time to fathom the mystery of Hermione's impossible timetable at the moment; he really needed to get on with Snape's essay. Two seconds later, however, he was interrupted again, this time by Wood and Angelina Johnson.

Harry looked at the pair, puzzled until he realized Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell sat just farther up the table. Angelina quickly pulled out a chair, her eyes widening in what seemed to be important news.

But before she could speak, Wood jumped in. "Bad news, Harry. I've just been to see Professor McGonagall about the Firebolt. She — er — got a bit shirty with me. told me I'd got my priorities wrong. Seemed to think I cared more about winning the Cup then I do about you staying alive. Just because I told her I didn't care if it threw you off, as long as you caught the Snitch first." Wood shook his head in disbelief. "Honestly, the way she was yelling at me … you'd think I'd said something terrible. Then I asked her how much longer she was going to keep it …" He screwed up his face and imitated Professor McGonagall's severe voice, "'As long as necessary, Wood' … I reckon it's time you ordered a new broom, Harry. There an order form at the back of Which Broomstick … you could get a Nimbus Two Thousand and One, like Malfoy's got."

"I'm not buying anything Malfoy thinks is good," said Harry flatly.

Harry saw Angelina roll her eyes as Wood walked away. She scooted closer to Alicia and Katie.

"You wouldn't _believe_ what I just heard." She hissed, making the two other girls lean closer in.

"Go on," said Alicia.

Angelina looked around before whispering, "There's a new student in our year. Slytherin. She's a transfer from Durmstrang and the headmaster allowed her to come through mid-year. And that's not even the craziest part."

Harry and Ron looked at each other, their eyes widening. Harry turned to Angelina. "What's the craziest part?"

Angelina turned to Harry and Ron, her eyebrows furrowed by the interruption.

Ignoring an aggravated huff from Hermione, Angelina spoke louder. "Her name is Poppy Black. As in _the_ Black family _._ "

Ron shot a panicked look to Harry, which said 'I can't believe this is happening'. At this point, even Hermione was listening, the book in her hand limp as she stared at Angelina in disbelief.

Ignoring his essay, Harry stood up and headed towards the stairs, closely followed by Ron. The three girls looked on in confusion for a second before turning back to their gossip.

As soon as the pair got up to the dormitories, Ron exploded. "Is Dumbledore mad? Bringing a Black into the school when one's already on the loose! What next? You-Know-Who himself?"

Harry shook his head warily. "It's not just that, Ron. I think that this new student — Poppy — is Sirius Black's daughter. Why else would Remus help her? And why would Black never hurt her?"

Ron paced anxiously. "This can't be good. What if she wants revenge like her dad? She's a Slytherin!"

Harry shook his head. This was the one thing he knew for sure. "She doesn't. Didn't you hear Remus? Someone was trying to hurt her at Durmstrang. Plus the way that Remus was fighting for her — I think he may have raised her."

"Even if that's true, I still think we should be on our guard."

Harry nodded in agreement.

* * *

After the surprise in the common room, it seemed that Harry and Ron couldn't stop their heads from swivelling for any new face in the halls, their eyes set on the Slytherin table during supper.

Finally, after a few days of checking every nook, Harry spotted her. Nestled in-between two fourth-year Slytherins sat a girl with short, wavy black hair. Her brown eyes were wide when she spoke to the student across from her, matching the lighter brown of her skin. She had a sharp face that was an almost exact replica of the posters Harry had seen of Sirius Black, minus the gauntness haunting his features.

Her eyes shifted towards Harry, narrowing as she regarded him. Harry quickly looked away, shooting a glance at Ron.

* * *

January faded imperceptibly into February, with no change in the bitterly cold weather. The match with Ravenclaw was drawing nearer and nearer, but Harry still hadn't ordered a new broom. He asked McGonagall about his Firebolt to no avail.

To make matters even worse, Harry's Anti-Dementor lessons were not going nearly as well as he had hoped, putting him in the same position as earlier in the year. Several sessions on, he was able to produce an indistinct, silvery shadow every time the Boggart-Dementor approached him, but his Patronus was too feeble to drive the Dementor away. All it did was hover, like a semi-transparent cloud, draining Harry of energy as he fought to keep it there. Harry felt angry with himself, guilty about his secret desire to hear his parents' voices again.

"You're expecting too much of yourself," said Professor Lupin sternly, in their fourth week of practice. "For a thirteen-year-old wizard, even an indistinct Patronus is a huge achievement. You aren't passing out anymore, are you?"

"I thought a Patronus would — charge the Dementors down or something," said Harry dispiritedly. "Make them disappear—"

"The true Patronus does do that," said Lupin. "But you've achieved a great deal in a very short space of time. If the Dementors put in an appearance at your next Quidditch match, you will be able to keep them at bay long enough to get back to the ground."

"You said it's harder if there are loads of them," said Harry.

"I have complete confidence in you," said Lupin, smiling. "Here — you've earned a drink. Something from the Three Broomsticks, you won't have tried it before —"

He pulled two bottles out of his briefcase.

"Butterbeer!" said Harry, without thinking. "Yeah, I like that stuff!"

Lupin raised an eyebrow.

"Oh — Ron and Hermione brought me some back from Hogsmeade," Harry lied quickly.

"I see," said Lupin, though he still looked slightly suspicious. "Well — let's drink to a Gryffindor victory against Ravenclaw! Not that I'm supposed to take sides, as a teacher …" he added hastily.

They drank the butterbeer in silence until Harry voiced something he'd been wondering for a while.

"What's under a Dementor's hood?"

Professor Lupin lowered his bottle thoughtfully.

"Hmmm … well, the only people who really know are in no condition to tell us. You see, the Dementor only lowers its hood to use its last and worst weapon."

"What's that?"

"They call it the Dementors' Kiss," said Lupin, with a slightly twisted smile. "It's what Dementors do to those they wish to destroy utterly. I suppose there must be some kind of mouth under there because they clamp their jaws upon the mouth of the victim and — and suck out his soul."

Harry accidentally spat out a bit of his Butterbeer.

"What — they kill—?"

"Oh, no," said Lupin. "Much worse than that. You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you'll have no sense of self anymore, no memory, no … anything. There's no chance at all of recovery. You'll just — exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone forever … lost."

Lupin drank a little more Butterbeer, then said, "It's the fate that awaits Sirius Black. It was in the _Daily Prophet_ this morning. The Ministry has given the Dementors permission to perform it if they find him."

Harry sat stunned for a moment at the idea of someone having their soul sucked out through their mouth. But then he thought of Black.

"He deserves it," he said suddenly.

"You think so?" said Lupin lightly. "Do you really think anyone deserves that?"

"Yes," said Harry defiantly. "For … for some things. Even if it's painful for the people who love them."

Harry looked up at Lupin, curiosity taking over his mind. Lupin stared at his bottle, deep in thought.

"I suppose they will have to find out, then."

Harry would have liked to have told Lupin about the conversation he'd overheard about Black in the Three Broomsticks, or ask about Poppy, but he didn't want to have to lie or hurt Lupin in the process. So he finished his Butterbeer, thanked Lupin, and left the classroom.

On his way out, Harry saw Poppy again. She was taller than he had realized, possibly the same height as the twins. Her robes were crisp and new, but her hair seemed dishevelled and her face was turned downwards.

She glanced from Harry to the classroom, where you could see Lupin packing up his things. She shook her head and quickly strode towards the door.

Harry hung back, stepping out of sight of the door. Unsure of what he was waiting for, he listened to Lupin sigh and small thumps of him putting away the equipment they were using.

"What happened?" Lupin's voice asked.

"Some gits decided it would be a good idea to talk about dad." said another voice, Poppy's. She sighed, and Harry heard the grinding of a chair against the floor. "I don't understand why you wouldn't just let me have your last name, Remus. You know how much rows I get into because some sack of dragon dung wants to put his two-cents into the gossip surrounding me?"

"You just have to ignore them. And stop swearing so much." Remus responded, continuing to put away things.

Poppy groaned loudly. "I can't ignore them if I live with them! And there are only two people who don't either hurl insults at me or look at me strangely! I've made ten enemies and I'm not even through half of the semester!"

Harry heard Remus sigh. "I'm sorry, Poppy. You know that I would change this if I could. I'm trying to keep you safe."

"Does that include talking the Quidditch team into not letting me play? I was one of the best chasers at Durmstrang!"

"The Dementors are looking for your dad. They could easily mistake you. I can't protect you from that far away."

"I can produce a Patronus charm. Shouldn't that be enough? You're letting that Potter kid out onto the field and they're attracted to him!"

"That's because I'm _supposed_ to protect you. I'm trying to protect him as much as I can," said Remus, his voice wary. "But, if you promise to do lessons with us —"

"No!" Poppy exclaimed, the chair groaning from her pushing it away. "I'm not going to come in my free time to watch you teach _him_ —"

"Poppy. I think this would be good for the both of you. He could learn from you and you can find someone who understands, with people around him who don't judge as harshly as those around you."

Silence hung for a long time, and Harry would have thought that Poppy had left in a huff if he wasn't standing outside the door.

"Fine," said Poppy, defiance clear in her voice. "But you have to get me a Butterbeer."


	3. Chapter 3

Harry half wished that he hadn't stayed to listen to Poppy and Lupin, nor asked what was under a dementor's hood; he was nervous about having to possibly practice with Poppy, and he was so lost in unpleasant thoughts of what it would feel like to have your soul sucked out of you that he walked headlong into Professor McGonagall halfway up the stairs.

"Do watch where you're going, Potter!"

"Sorry, Professor—"

"I've just been looking for you in the Gryffindor common room. Well, here it is, we've done everything we could think of, and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it at all. You've got a very good friend somewhere, Potter…"

Harry's jaw dropped. She was holding out his Firebolt, and it looked as magnificent as ever.

"I can have it back?" Harry said weakly. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," said Professor McGonagall, and she was actually smiling. "I daresay you'll need to get the feel of it before Saturday's match, won't you? And Potter — do try and win, won't you? Or we'll be out of the running for the eighth year. in a row, as Professor Snape was kind enough to remind me only last night..."

Speechless, Harry carried the Firebolt back upstairs toward Gryffindor Tower. As he turned a corner, he saw Ron dashing toward him, grinning from ear to ear.

"She gave it to you? Excellent! Listen, can I still have a go on it? Tomorrow?"

"Yeah... anything," said Harry, his heart lighter than it had been in a month. "You know what — we should make up with Hermione. She was only trying to help."

"Yeah, all right," said Ron. "She's in the common room."

They turned into the corridor to Gryffindor Tower and saw Neville Longbottom, pleading with Sir Cadogan, who seemed to be refusing him entrance.

"I wrote them down!" Neville was saying tearfully. "But I must've dropped them somewhere!"

"A likely tale!" roared Sir Cadogan. Then, spotting Harry and Ron: "Good even, my fine young yeomen! Come clap this loon in irons. He is trying to force entry to the chambers within!"

"Oh, shut up," said Ron as he and Harry drew level with Neville.

"I've lost the passwords!" Neville told them miserably. "I made him tell me what passwords he was going to use this week, because he keeps changing them, and now I don't know what I've done with them!"

"Oddsbodikins," said Harry to Sir Cadogan, who looked extremely disappointed and reluctantly swung forward to let them into the common room. There was a sudden, excited murmur as every head turned and the next moment, Harry was surrounded by people exclaiming over his Firebolt.

After ten minutes or so, during which the Firebolt was passed around and admired from every angle, the crowd dispersed and Harry and Ron had a clear view of Hermione, the only person who hadn't rushed over to them, bent over her work and carefully avoiding their eyes. Harry and Ron approached her table and at last, she looked up.

"I got it back," said Harry, grinning at her and holding up the Firebolt.

"See, Hermione? There wasn't anything wrong with it!" said Ron.

"Well — there might have been!" said Hermione. "I mean, at least you know now that it's safe!"

"Yeah, I suppose so," said Harry. "I'd better put it upstairs."

"I'll take it!" said Ron eagerly. "I've got to give Scabbers his rat tonic."

He took the Firebolt and, holding it as if it were made of glass, carried it away up the boys' staircase.

"Can I sit down, then?" Harry asked Hermione.

"I suppose so," said Hermione, moving a great stack of parchment off a chair.

Harry looked around at the cluttered table, at the long Arithmancy essay on which the ink was still glistening, and at the rune translation Hermione was now poring over.

"How are you getting through all this stuff?" Harry asked her.

"Oh, well, you know — working hard," said Hermione. Close-up, Harry saw that she looked almost as tired as Lupin.

"Why don't you just drop a couple of subjects?" Harry asked, watching her lifting books as she searched for her rune dictionary.

"I couldn't do that!" said Hermione, looking scandalized.

"Arithmancy looks terrible. I can't believe you're taking a class with fourth-years." said Harry, picking up a very complicated-looking number chart.

"Oh no, it's wonderful!" said Hermione earnestly. "It's my favourite subject! Plus, I made a friend—"

But exactly who was Hermione's new friend, Harry never found out.

At that precise moment, a strangled yell echoed down the boys' staircase. The whole common room fell silent, staring, petrified, at the entrance. Then came hurried footsteps, growing louder and louder - and then Ron came leaping into view, dragging with him a bedsheet.

"LOOK!" he bellowed, striding over to Hermione's table, shaking his bedsheets in her face.

"Ron, what—"

"SCABBERS! LOOK! SCABBERS!"

Hermione was leaning away from Ron, looking utterly bewildered. Harry looked down at the sheet Ron was holding. There was something red on it. Something that looked horribly like—

"BLOOD!" Ron yelled into the stunned silence. "HE'S GONE! AND YOU KNOW WHAT WAS ON THE FLOOR?"

"N—no," said Hermione in a trembling voice.

Ron threw something down onto Hermione's rune translation. Hermione and Harry leaned forward. Lying on top of the weird, spiky shapes were several long, ginger cat hairs.

* * *

It looked like the end of Ron and Hermione's friendship. Each was so angry with the other that Harry couldn't see how they'd ever make up.

Personally, Harry was sure that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers, and when he tried to point out to Hermione that the evidence all pointed that way, she lost her temper with Harry too.

"Okay, side with Ron, I knew you would!" she said shrilly. "First the Firebolt, now Scabbers! Everything's my fault, isn't it! Just leave me alone, Harry, I've got a lot of work to do!"

Ron had taken the loss of his rat very hard indeed.

"Come on, Ron, you were always saying how boring Scabbers was," said Fred bracingly, when Ron told the group what had happened. "And he's been off-color for ages, he was wasting away. It was probably better for him to snuff it quickly - one swallow - he probably didn't feel a thing."

"Fred!" said Ginny indignantly.

"All he did was eat and sleep, Ron. You said it yourself," said George.

"He bit Goyle for us once!" Ron said miserably. "Remember, Harry?"

"Yeah, that's true," said Harry.

"His finest hour," said Fred, unable to keep a straight face. "Let the scar on Goyle's finger stand as a lasting tribute to his memory. Oh, come on, Ron, get yourself down to Hogsmeade and buy a new rat, what's the point of moaning?"

"Especially when there's much more interesting things to talk about." George interjected with an eyebrow wiggle, casting a glance at the Slytherin table across from him. On the side facing Harry sat Poppy, who was sitting by herself.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Give the poor girl a break." She leaned in closer. "I heard she's been in three fights this week alone. A lot of the Slytherins don't like how she's a disgraced Black, or whatever. It also doesn't help that she told off Malfoy last week."

This caught Harry's attention. "Why was she fighting Malfoy?"

Ginny shrugged. "Not sure. She seems close with Lupin and Hagrid, and you know how Malfoy is."

Harry knew about Lupin, but Hagrid? Harry wasn't expecting that — he'd see if he could have a talk with Hagrid about it later.

In a last-ditch attempt to cheer Ron up, Harry persuaded him to come along to the Gryffindor team's final practice before the Ravenclaw match, so that he could have a ride on the Firebolt after they'd finished. This did seem to take Ron's mind off Scabbers for a moment ("Great! Can I try and shoot a few goals on it?") so they set off for the Quidditch field together.

* * *

Harry went down to breakfast the next morning with the rest of the boys in his dormitory, all of whom seemed to think the Firebolt deserved a sort of guard of honour. As Harry entered the Great Hall, heads turned in the direction of the Firebolt, and there was a good deal of excited muttering. Harry saw, with enormous satisfaction, that the Slytherin team were all looking thunderstruck.

"Did you see his face?" said Ron gleefully, looking back at Malfoy. "He can't believe it! This is brilliant!"

"Sure you can manage that broom, Potter?" said a cold, drawling voice.

Draco Malfoy had arrived for a closer look, Crabbe and Coyle right behind him.

"Yeah, reckon so," said Harry casually.

"Got plenty of special features, hasn't it?" said Malfoy, eyes glittering maliciously. "Shame it doesn't come with a parachute — in case you get too near a dementor."

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered.

"Pity you can't attach an extra arm to yours, Malfoy," said Harry. "Then it could catch the Snitch for you."

Harry heard a chuckle from behind him, mixing with the rest of the Gryffindor's laughter. He turned around to find Poppy, who had come up from the Slytherin table to his side.

Malfoy shot her a look mixed with rage and fear before stalking away. Harry looked to Poppy to find a smirk plastered on her face as she watched Malfoy sit back down.

She turned sharply to Harry, the smirk still plastered on her face. "Good luck. I'll be rooting for you guys." She said, before looking Harry up and down.

She shot him a wink before disappearing into the crowd. Ron was suddenly at Harry's side, his face a look of utter shock, followed by an array of questions from the twins.

"Harry! You didn't tell us you knew the new Slytherin!"

Harry shook his head. "I didn't know she knew me."


End file.
